Forgotten Daughter

The man she loved.

No! Annabelle’s hands flew to her head in consternation. She couldn’t let herself love him. Stefano Cortez would never commit to any woman. She would have to be barking mad—or utterly masochistic—to let herself love a man who’d never love her back!

Trembling, Annabelle carefully pulled away

from his arms and crept out of his bed. She took a shower in his en suite bathroom, then got dressed in clothes she’d borrowed from his wardrobe: an oversize white cotton shirt and jeans cinched to her hips with his leather belt.

Looking down at her clothes, Annabelle smiled. Stefano had been so gleeful to finally get her out of her dressy suits. She’d finally given up her sleek and professional outfits as impractical, and instead relished the comfort and good sense of Stefano’s oversize cotton shirts and rolled-up jeans.

He’d sent for new work boots for her in the village. He offered to get her new clothes, as well. But she’d refused. She loved wearing Stefano’s clothes. It was intimate. She sometimes thought she caught his scent of saddle soap and sunlight. Feeling the worn, soft cotton against her skin felt like being in his constant embrace.

Now, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. And for once, it wasn’t the angry red scar across her face that drew her eyes. It was her mouth.

She touched her bruised lips. She could still feel Stefano’s kiss. His perfect body. She’d been sleeping in his bed every night. His sensual, powerful body commanded her without words. He gave her such pleasure, made her feel so alive….

“There you are,” she heard him growl behind her. “Why did you leave bed so early?”

Annabelle looked up at the mirror and saw him behind her, standing naked in the open doorway. In spite of their many days together, she blinked in astonishment at his masculine perfection. His shoulders were so broad, his body muscular and lithe. She couldn’t look from his image in the mirror as he walked into the gleaming white bathroom. Her eyes traced downward from his handsome face and dark, chiseled jawline to his hard chest and flat belly and lower still …

He wanted her to come back to bed. A lot.

His darkly amused eyes met hers in the mirror and she licked her lips, blushing. Coming behind her, he turned her around in his arms.

“I missed you.” He looked down at her. “I was disappointed to wake up alone.”

Closing her eyes, she breathed in his woodsy, masculine scent, in the pleasure and comfort of his embrace.

Only one night left.

Swallowing, Annabelle pushed away from him, tucking her smallest digital camera into the back pocket of her oversize jeans. Trying to hide the emotion on her face, hiding her desire to cling to him forever, she said sadly, “I have to work today.”

“Forget work,” he commanded, stroking her cheek. “Stay in bed.”

She shivered with longing, staring up at his handsome face. “I’ve forgotten work too much already,” she said. She shook her head. “Equestrian will wonder what on earth I’ve been doing all week here.”

“Then let’s both give back their advance,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “I would happily lose a hundred thousand euros for a single hour of having you in my arms.”

Annabelle sighed. Looking up at his handsome face, she was beyond tempted. She wanted nothing more than to stay here, in the warmth of his bedroom, with its rustic furniture and incredible view of the vast fields and horses outside. She wanted nothing more than to stay here in his arms forever.

No. No, she couldn’t give in to that feeling! I don’t love him, she told herself desperately. Absolutely not …

A loud bang came from outside the house. Crossing to the bedroom window, Stefano peeked through the blinds, then winced at the roar and hum of moving vans and the shouting of men outside.

“We’re under siege,” he said grimly, pulling away from the window.

She grinned. “You invited them here.”

“I hate this time of the year.”

“You only gave the party planners a single day to set up for tomorrow. What did you expect? What else could they do but send an army? And it is for charity.”

“I still hate it.” He scowled, then lifted a dark eyebrow with a wicked half smile. “Come distract me …”

She tilted her head as if considering. “I suppose I could use your services today.”

“Aha—”

“.as my assistant,” she finished.